Microwavable Sev
by Ignis et Ventus
Summary: It really was one of Fred and George's better creations. PWP, no pairing.


A/N: Wow, I actually finished a story in one day…(nobody's allowed to say that that's only because it's a pathetic little one-shot.) anyways, I got the idea when I was in my kitchen the other day, I was thinking of Sev and my mom told me to put something in the microwave so, this is the result. Please review, and if you have just a little bit of time on your hands when you're done reading this, I would be honoured if you would be sp kind as to pay 'The Principle Of Inertia' (another one of my stories) and, not necessarily read, but leave a review that says, I opened the link to this story. It might make me feel better.

So, I don't own anything, we all got that, even the elf that lives in my closet, along with the skeleton of my old biology teacher, but we won't go into details just in case the men in black coats decide to interrogate you.

Microwavable Sev 

It was a warm day in London, that particular Sunday afternoon. A young man with brilliant green eyes and ruffled black hair, and a look of innocence that betrayed his past experiences and brushes with death, was locking the door to his really rather fancy apartment. It was located in an area of London that was rarely visited by anyone, and the lack of comings and goings gave life there a slower pace. It was for that precise reason for which the man had chosen to live there.

He descended the staircase that would lead him to the entrance of the building in which he currently resided. On the way he stopped to smile the few people that littered the hallways- all of them were very oddly dressed. He pushed open the front door, a cool gust catching him off guard and messing up his own questionable attire.

The sun shone brightly down on him and seemed to watch over the young man, follow him as he crossed the few streets that separated the neighbourhoods of the small town.

As he had done many times before, he took a sharp right turn to enter an old building with fruit stands in the windows. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, was at the super market doing his weekly shopping.

Tapping one of the floating baskets with his wand, he began scouring the aisles, a bright purple basket stalking him all the way. He picked up his usual items- milk, eggs, butter, bread, fruits, vegetables, and juice- and decided to add a few things to his otherwise banal list.

By the time he had finished all of the aisles save the frozen goods (frozen in time, not in temperature. What do you take them for? Muggles?), nothing had caught his eye.

Almost dejectedly, he sauntered past the final section, finishing his round where they usually put the stranger items, some of which generally ended up being creations of the prankster twins. He glumly finished his shopping, only to stop directly in front of a pile of newly stacked boxes. A wide grin spread across his face, and a loud cackle escaped his throat, bubbling up through his open lips.

It was a good thing that the store was nearly empty and that he had already well established his reputation as a "good guy", otherwise he would have been suspected of plotting evil-something that was not easily forgiven these days.

He reached out a long fingered hand to the pile, picked out a box at random and proceeded to the cash. He dropped the money-5 galleons and 7 sickles- into the young witch's outstretched hand, still grinning like a lunatic. She threw him a worried look.

The 23-year-old left the shop to go back into the sunny street and skipped merrily back to his apartment.

It was six o'clock by the time he finally reached his humble abode, and spared no time with his usual trivialities. He stored his groceries in his muggle fridge- all of his appliances were muggle as he did not know how to use the Wizarding ones (why would one even want to fry bacon, make coffee, and knit a scarf with the same appliance anyways?)-save for the special box that he placed on his counter.

After washing his hands thoroughly, he flipped the box around to find the instructions. In small print at the bottom left-hand corner was written: 'De-freeze via Unfreezing Charm (incantation "egelidus") and place in the microwave at medium heat for 5 minutes. If using-' He stopped reading there.

His microwave's handle nearly flew off when he wrenched open the door. He had taken out the meal from its previous confines and shoved the container into the rectangular depth, and slammed the door shut. Four beeps later his meal was cooking away happily in the kitchen while he set himself a place at his little table for two.

As soon as it beeped again, Harry ran back to the kitchen, grabbed his supper and placed it on the table.

He sat down calmly in his seat and took the knife that he had carefully lain down in front of his plate. The mirthless laughter that had erupted from him at the super market filled his dining room.

"Now who's looking down on whom, huh? You stupid, snarky, greasy, old bat!" He brought the knife down into the head of the plate.

While Harry destroyed his meal at the dining table, a box fell over in the kitchen, putting eight words on display.

"Eat your own Death Eater: Microwavable Severus Snape."

It _really_ was one of Fred and George's better creations.

Well, that's it. I hope you enjoyed it cause it was such a pleasure to write, especially after all the dark angst I've been writing…anyways, please leave a quick review.

Ignis


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